


Joke's on you

by Lookingkindofdumb



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Gen, The Joker basically haunts Batman, basically Bruce worries - a lot, because Heath Ledger played an excellent Joker, creep factor from the Joker, possible time travel/dimension hopping, where did The Joker come from?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookingkindofdumb/pseuds/Lookingkindofdumb
Summary: As the years go on the Joker starts seeming more and more familiar. As his boys grow older the familiarity hits like a knife between the ribs, sharp agony."He loved his children." The Joker says it like an insult.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In The Dark Knight film, Heath Ledger's portrayal of The Joker was haunting, in my opinion, and the idea that Batman 'created' the Joker kind of bit me.
> 
> Yeah...so, this is the result.

The first time (not the last, Batman doesn't see this psychotic dance of theirs ever faltering) the Joker captures him, Batman knows next to nothing of him. The Joker is just a new guy on the streets that Batman has to help the police put away.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" The Joker asks, leaning forward companionably, dark eyes fixed on Batman's mask. Batman doesn't give him the satisfaction of leaning away from the almost embrace, not that he could, the Joker knows how to tie someone up. Batman couldn't have done better.

(This is the first warning.)

"I had this father, you see, daddy-o dearest." The Joker continues, sing song, running a knife down Batman's face. Batman feels a sting, like the burn of a paper cut, bisect his cheek. That will be annoying to cover up with makeup; he won't be able to pass it off as a shaving cut, not even from Bruce Wayne's notable carelessness.

"He was a hard man. Hard to please, hard to like and hard to beat." From this close Batman can see the cracks in the white painted makeup, natural wrinkle lines crease through and there are patches of skin where sweat has rinsed off the paint. Eyes like hollows in the stark face, mouth a gaping bleeding wound. 

("You think he plans every little thing? Or just wings it?" Dick asks, once, curious, halfway through a flip.

"Which would be worse?" Tim asks, cocking his head like a bird.

A calculating man, who plans each step methodically, contingencies mapped and ready is a _very_ dangerous thing. A man who leaps on the grenade of chance and lets the chips fall where they will without care is equally so.

Both prospects fill Bruce's stomach with dread.

"What the fuck does it matter?" Jason points out, voice a raspy growl, not unlike Batman's own.

"Tt." Damian sniffs. "The warehouse is still on fire." He points out, like he cannot believe he allows them this close to his person, like stupidity is infectious.)

"He loved his children." The Joker says it like an insult, like this is the worst thing he could have done. Bruce, who patrols the streets of Gotham, the cess pit of humanity, does not think that love atones for any sin. In Gotham love can be just as hazardous as hate.

"He was a grim man, always solemn and sober; he never _smiled_. So, one day, just to see him smile again, just once, I took his letter opener and carved his face up. Mine too, just to be a fair reflection. Now," the Joker claps his shoulder like he is revealing the punch line of a side splitting joke. "Now, he's never not smiling!" The Joker cackles with glee, eyes empty and dead.

Batman works with fear. He trained with it, uses it, masters it. Deals it.

He can't help the frisson that goes down his spine. He's realising that The Joker is not the usual sort of villain at all.

 

#

 

"You ever meet the Joker before he popped up and tried to burn Gotham to the ground?" Gordon asks, flicking the ash off his cigarette. The glow of the small flame winks and goes out in the rain. Gordon curses.

"No." Batman answers, not moving from his crouch.

"You sure? Even through the paint and," Gordon trails off as Batman turns his head to _look_ at him. "Fine." Gordon grumbles.

The rooftop is silent, except for the rain falling into the puddle that is Gotham in spring time.

"It's just..." Gordon doesn't look like he knows quite how to phrase it, pursing his lips and eyes avoiding the dark shadow that is Batman's corner. "Obsessions are never logical; there isn't a rhyme or reason for them but even so. The way the Joker toys with you is...strange. Personal." Gordon sighs, like he didn't mean to let the last word slip.

"I find a lot of what the Joker does to be strange." Batman says, stiffening.

"Yeah." Gordon agrees, a quiet puff of air.

The disquiet lingers.

There are many things that don't add up. Or rather, Bruce does not yet have the full picture and is left with an unsolvable puzzle, too many pieces warped and broken.

The Joker never tries to take off his mask, never seriously. With all the thought that goes into the Joker's schemes, getting Bruce to remove the mask would be child's play. There is a reason he doesn't. Alfred says that some people like a little mystery. Bruce, who could be politely called _nosy_ (the impolite term would, of course, be _creepy_ ), does not understand. He doesn't think the Joker sees it quite that way either, the mask is irrelevant in their interactions.

It's not _who_ they are, but _what_ they are. And that frightens Bruce most of all.

 

#

 

" _He's_ not going to like that." The Joker sing songs, after Robin leaps in the way, directly disobeying Batman's orders, blonde hair almost a flag behind her flying form.

(" _He's_ not going to be impressed." Tim sing songs, shaking his head mock sadly and Bruce's breath catches while Tim good naturedly taunts Damian, goading him into starting a popcorn war.)

 

#

 

There are no records of the Joker, before he is The Joker.

 

#

 

They are always his children. They throw themselves on his cause with all the fire and spit of Gotham. All that is the best and brightest (worst and deadliest) of Gotham encompasses them.

Dick. The child born to the circus, born to fly. Born to the stage in a different way to Bruce. Dick is stubborn, clever and bright, whose smiles flash across his face like stars, numerous, unmissable and most of all, just out of reach. The real smiles are smaller, offered in the dark, quiet, contemplative moments. Dick cheerfully blackmails Bruce into taking him on as Robin, once he discovers his secret. Bruce is reluctant to bring this upon a child, (Dick is only twelve) but he can't deny the logic that Dick is far safer patrolling _with_ him than on his own in the murky streets of Gotham.

(Still, he spends a few days contemplating bars that would fit across the windows of the mansion to prevent certain pests following him in his night time endeavours.

He understands why someone might want to put their child in a tower and throw away the key just to keep them safe.)

Jason. A true child of Gotham in the way that neither Bruce, Dick nor Alfred could ever be. Street smart and wary, always prepared for a blow and willing to fight to the last breath just to claw back what is his, to _survive_. Jason smiles, they cover up fear, try to distract anyone from looking deeper. Bruce buys Jason some locks from a hardware store and gives them to him, affixing them to Jason's door when Jason asks it of him. Only Jason has the key. It doesn't mean much, considering they can all pick locks - Bruce didn't even have to teach Jason that one - but it evidently means _enough_ , when Jason smiles at him and offers a cheeky remark. Jason is robin because there is no logical argument that Bruce can give to stop him. Besides, he is good at it, knows the streets like the back of his hands.

Tim. He should see himself in Tim, does at points, both blue blooded Gothamites. He doesn't. Tim is not a reflection. Tim is curious, dives so deep for answers he forgets himself, forgets the real world. He digs for the truth with fervour, like it is being denied to him on purpose. Tim doesn't want an adoption, doesn't want someone to tell him what to do, to have authority over him. Tim stands for himself, does things in his own way and is probably the most efficient person Bruce has ever encountered. He is so cerebral that sometimes people forget there is a body there too, that Tim enjoys zipping over Gotham's roof tops, enjoys training, or at least, enjoys beating down people intent on dragging down the city. Tim appoints himself Robin, they all do, it isn't something that is Bruce's to give.

Stephanie. Is a child of Gotham in a different way to Jason. She's quick, bitter in the way growing up in Gotham makes you, but her smiles are real. Rare and real. Her smirks are something else. She doesn't have acrobatics training, she doesn't have experience in street brawls but she learns. Stephanie learns _fast_ , it's probably why she leaves when he tells her to, there is nothing more for her. She never lives at the mansion, lives with her mother, and she wears the Robin jacket for the shortest length of time. But she is still one of his. She was never broken enough to be one of his Robins, not broken enough to survive as one. Robin is a stopgap for her, not the life it was for the rest of them.

(Still, Bruce misstepped there but he isn't sure there was a right way either. Robin was not the role for her.)

Cassandra. She is more than her training, which is why Bruce is reluctant to take her on. She learns quietly, learns to talk, to read, learns by watching. Observing. She sees things differently and sometimes Bruce wonders if she sees the clearest of them all because of it. She doesn't stay in one place, though she has a home at the mansion. She doesn't need his training. She needs a real life, Bruce isn't sure he can give her that.

Damian. Well...he isn't sure how Damian turned out so well considering his unconventional upbringing. Still, there is definite room for improvement. He'll be his own man, one day, free from the shadows of Batman or Bruce Wayne. Bruce just hopes he gets the opportunity to be a child too. He sees Robin as his birthright; Bruce doesn't even know where to start with that.

All of his Robins have rage. Anger that they use to pound the streets, to leap impossible distances, anger they use to down adults twice their size. 

(He knows that he is the last person to talk about ideal mental health and anger management strategies but...with the way anger warps people so easily, he can't help but worry.)

 

#

 

The Joker laughs and he is angry, something Batman has said or done has lit a fire. It is not unusual.

"Well," The Joker spits, laughing and cackling, no joy in sight, "isn't that just _precious_. I do hope you _choke_."

("I don't care about the damn statue! You can choke on it for all I care!" Dick slams his bedroom door shut, rushing out before the argument gets worse. Bruce stands in the hall way letting the anger fade, letting the pointless argument dissipate. All he and Dick seem to do at the moment is argue, Alfred says it is a phase.)

 

#

 

The Joker's traps become more elaborate, the schemes more patently ridiculous. It's a slow, sliding spiral and Bruce is uncomfortably aware that the steeper the slope gets, the more unstable his footing is too.

He makes Batman a legacy, something to continue, something Gotham will always need because change cannot come fast enough.

It perpetuates, like the Robin position has done for years.

He throws himself into schemes to benefit the city, working on those young enough that it will have an impact. The ideas won't come into fruition until long past Bruce's time but he hopes they will make a difference.

What else but hope would see him throwing himself into Gotham night after night, to try and stopgap the gaping chasm Gotham could fall into so easily?

 

#

 

"Oh, you need me, Batsy, I complete you." The Joker says, mocking, deadly serious. The Joker is never more serious than when he is joking. "Without me, where would your little crusade be? Locking up mob leaders only gets you so far and where is all the attention in that? It all lacks a certain sense of theatrics, if you ask me."

Nothing is ever as it seems with The Joker, which is why Bruce is currently trussed up like a turkey instead of taking a swim in the docks.

("I know you have an undeniable sense of the theatrics, Master Bruce, but a little more caution cannot hurt." Alfred chides, lips pinched together as he clears up the medical tray.

"It might." Bruce attempts humour but his voice falls short of it by a milestone. Silence drops, heavy as a stone. Ah, he has...misstepped.

"Well, I can clearly see where I am not needed." Alfred says tartly, after Bruce has gone and crossed him again, he _hates_ disappointing Alfred. Jason watches, wide eyed, in the corner.)

 

#

 

Bruce researches time travel, looks into the possibility then dismisses the thought as idle fancy. He _is_ paranoid after all. 

But that doesn't mean he is wrong, a voice nags in the back of his head.

He toys with the idea on and off over the years, thinks about all the different ways accidental dimension travel could occur. The list grows longer.

He catches a glimpse of his face in the mirror, when he is stripping out of his suit and can't help the instinctive recoil. He hasn't yet wiped away the dark makeup that covers his eyes. It takes him half an hour just to blink away afterimages of The Joker's face, etched into his brain.

 

#

 

"Who are you?" It blurts out of Bruce, while they wait for the police, The Joker cuffed in handcuffs specifically designed for him. Even Bruce would have difficulty getting out of them. He thinks The Joker is humouring him by wearing them, he hasn't even attempted to get them off which suggests he could do it. 

The Joker tilts his head, looking at Bruce with familiar blue eyes. He throws back his head and laughs, the first real laugh Batman has heard from him.

A police siren cuts through the thick night air.

"Oh, Batsy, you do crack me up." The Joker sighs. "I'm The Joker; do you need to know more?"

It's true in a sense, knowing The Joker's name won't really help, not when The Joker is so whimsical and unpredictable. Still, the familiarity nags at Bruce, snagging at him at unsuspecting moments, pulling on open wounds with sharp agony.

 

#

 

Bruce has always had nightmares, they vary in strength and ferocity, but he's had them as long as he can remember.

The ones with The Joker are the worst, all casual arms draped over his shoulder, the white face paint cracking and flaking, the laugh on a continuous echo.

"Am I _you_?" The Joker asks, "or, am I _them_?"

**Author's Note:**

> Wouldn't it hurt if The Joker ever turned out to be one of Bruce's sons, or even Bruce himself?
> 
> Not really sure where I was going with this.


End file.
